When the water had drained off a little I went out toward the ponds to ascertain the extent of the damage. Suddenly the whole park became alive with people, who, with an almost savage energy, began to tear off the broken branches and chop at the fallen trunks. It appears they were peasant-lodgers who had no right in the woods. In the main, I did not care whether they gathered the sticks, but as they had come through the broken fence without permission, and in such a savage manner, I, being out of humor, began to drive them away, my anger rising at their stubborn resistance. At last I threatened them with the village authorities, when suddenly, close by, the sweetest voice in the world said in French:—
"Is there any harm in their clearing the park, Leon?"
I turned round and saw Aniela, her head covered with a kerchief tied under her chin. With both hands she was holding up her dress, showing up to the ankles her little feet encased in high boots; bending slightly forward she looked at me entreatingly.
At her sight my anger vanished at once. I forgot the unpleasant sensations that had troubled me a little while before, and looked at her as if I could never fill myself enough with the sight.
"Is it your wish?" I asked.
Then, turning to the people, I said:—
"Take the wood, and thank the lady for the permission."
This time they obeyed with alacrity. Some of them, evidently strangers to Ploszow, addressed her as "gracious Panienka" (Miss), which caused me unspeakable delight. If Ploszow were mine they might cut down every tree at her wish. In half an hour every broken branch and fallen tree was cleared away, and the park looked really all the better for it. Walking with Aniela along the paths I found a great many swallows and other birds, either killed by the storm or half dead and drenched with rain. I picked them up, and handing them one by one to Aniela, I touched her hands, looked into her eyes, and again felt happy. The idyl of the day before repeated itself, for us both, and brought with it ease and cheerfulness. My heart was full of joy, for I saw what Aniela could not see,—that in our brotherly relation there was twice as much tenderness as would be or ought to be between the most loving brother and sister. I was quite sure now that, unconsciously, she loved me as much as I loved her. In this way one half of my hopes and schemes are realized already; there remains only to bring it home to her and make her own to the feeling. When I think of that I remember, with a heart beating fast with happiness, what I wrote down some time ago: that "no woman in the world can resist the man she truly loves."
15 May.
Our visitors did not come yesterday but to-day, which was very sensible, as all traces of the storm have disappeared and the weather is very fine. This fifteenth of May will be one of the best remembered days in my life. It is now past midnight; I am wide awake, as if I never wanted to sleep again, and intend to write until morning. I am collecting my thoughts so as not to begin at the end, and put it all down in proper order. Force of habit is a great help in this.